Hold My Hand
by nek0manc3r
Summary: M/M, one-shot, Style, IC, a little schmoop. "I'm afraid this is permanent glue, like a permanent marker. But it's glue." "Who the hell came up with that stupid idea?" "Come on, it's not that bad." Stan & Kyle are working on a project together, and accidentally manage to get their hands glued together. Idea from otpprompts on tumblr. Rated T for swearing (duh, this is South Park.)
**okay so I really needed some style fluffs because I was very unhappy with the s19 finale, actually I was just weirded out by s19 in general to be honest**

 **I had to write bc that just piss me off to no end how they didn't even reconcile in the end**

 **so here's a fluffy-ish style one-shot**

 **they're actually in character (well, I tried) and in fourth grade like they're supposed to be in this one**

 **disclaimer; I don't own south park**

 **if I did, stan and kyle wouldn't beat each other up in the cafeteria and point guns at each other (at least not without reconciling)**

 _ **I mean really. like... really? like... come on are you serious? ech... are you for real like, seriously? *puts face in hands crying***_

 **I don't own the cover art either, I don't know the artist bc I found it on pinterest, but credit to whoever that brilliant (probably japanese) person is**

 **feel free to point out the artist if you know so I can edit this**

 **anyway here we goo**

* * *

"Okay children, today we're going to explore the world of arts and crafts, because apparently the school board thinks it's important to your mental education somehow," Mr. Garrison announced as he set his stuff down on his desk.

" _Yes!_ " Cartman exclaimed. He'd take making stupid projects over math or reading.

"Today you're all going to make your own kites." The teacher said as he held up a picture. "You won't actually be able to fly them, but at least you'll learn how to cut and glue paper."

"Whoopee!" Butters said, also excited.

"Ugh." Kyle, Kenny and Stan mumbled in unison.

"What's with you douche bags?" Cartman made a face at them.

"Making kites? That's lame as shit, dude." Kenny answered, sitting back in his chair.

"It beats math!" The large male argued. "Besides, for once we're doing something that I can do better! You hear that, Jew? My kite will smoke yours!"

"They aren't even going to fly, dumbass!" The redhead said back.

"Yeah well yours is gonna look like crap."

"Whatever, I don't see how this is important to our education."

"You're a fucking loser," Cartman stuck his tongue out and turned back to the teacher.

"And the school also wants you kids to learn about teamwork, so we're going to all work in pairs."

"Damn it!" Cartman pounded his fist against the desk.

"Serves you right," Stan commented, putting away his books, since they wouldn't be needing them.

"Screw you guys," the dirty blonde said. "Wanna be partners, Butters?"

"Really?" The blonde bat his eyes. "You're askin' _me,_ Eric?"

"Yeah, I don't want those cynical asswipes near me."

"Oh boy!" Butters said, and they went off to the back art tables to begin making their project.

Kyle and Stan rolled their eyes in unison. Kenny just sighed and stood up, a sly smile on his face.

"Well I guess I'm going to go with the lovely Miss Bebe. Later, guys," he excused himself and made his way over to the girl he'd been taking an interest in lately.

Stan and Kyle looked at each other.

Kyle smiled at him. "Guess if we have to do this, we're stuck with each other."

Stan smiled back. "Guess so."

* * *

The table was covered in construction paper, scissors, crayons, and all artsy things alike. Although they didn't care for this project, the two actually made a decent looking model.

"It looks good," Kyle said as he stuck another star on the base.

"Yeah, it does." His best friend agreed as he worked on the tail, using multiple strips of paper to make it look graceful.

"It's actually too bad it won't fly."

Stan shrugged. "Maybe it can."

"Well yeah, if it's super windy and we let it go."

The raven-haired boy laughed, "don't let go of it then."

"Ahh shit," Kyle cursed when his hand tried to come up off the star, and found his fingers stuck together by glue.

Stan suppressed a laugh, snickering under his sleeved hand. Kyle glared daggers at him.

"Don't just laugh, help!" He said with a blush, trying to pull his fingers apart. He didn't want to get his other hand stuck, too, and avoided using it to pull his fingers apart.

"Okay, okay. Let's just go wash it in the sink," Stan suggested as he stood up, taking Kyle's wrist in his own hand and leading him to the sink where he tried to wash the glue off. Kyle's free hand went to press his fingertips to the base of his lips. "Did you get the glue off?"

"I think so," Stan said as he lifted Kyle's hand from the sink, and then realized his own hand was stuck to it.

"Oh shit," he said, trying to tug his hand free, but it was useless.

"Damn, what the hell is this? Gorilla glue?" Kyle complained as he tugged in the opposite direction, but stopped when they both groaned in pain.

"Okay well soap didn't work. Let's try scissors."

Kyle frowned. "Dude, we can barely get our hands apart. I don't want to cut our skin."

"Well then what the hell do we do?" Stan asked quietly, tugging on his arm, accidentally yanking Kyle forward in the process. He bit his lip apologetically.

"I don't know," the redhead answered.

"Well you're the one who got us stuck," Stan groaned. "Think of something."

"You didn't have to help me you know." Kyle rolled his eyes at his friend's comment. "I'm capable of washing my own hands."

"Well, it wouldn't have helped anyway apparently."

"I guess you're right. Should we tell Mr. Garrison?"

"What's he gonna do about it?" Stan quirked a brow.

"I don't know, maybe he has some kind of special teacher-undo-children-messes kit or something."

Stan sighed. "I don't know, worth a shot I guess."

"Hey assholes!" The large male called in a jolly voice, coming up behind the football player who jerked, turning around and putting his stuck hand behind his back, slightly dragging Kyle behind him. The other male peeked out from behind Stan's back, keeping their arms hidden.

"Whadd'ya want?" Stan asked casually.

"Look at our masterpiece!" Cartman held up a very messy, nearly falling apart model, though it was bright and glittering with all shorts of sparkles and shapes.

"Wow. That's really cool, Cartman." Stan deadpanned.

"Don't talk shit about the sparkles. That was Butters' doing, not mine!" He laughed.

"Do we give a shit?" Kyle asked from behind Stan, glaring at Cartman.

"You should! Cause I'm totally gonna win!"

"Win what?"

"My kites better than yours!"

"You mean _our_ kite, Eric!" Butters exclaimed.

"Butters, don't be an asshole, okay?" Cartman accused, holding the kite to his chest.

"This isn't a contest, stupid," Kyle replied.

"You're just saying that 'cause you know you'd lose if it was!"

"But it isn't!"

"Whatever, I win!" Cartman said as he skipped off, Butters wobbling behind him.

"He's impossible!" Kyle exclaimed, putting his free hand on his forehead.

"Just ignore him," Stan said. "So, Mr. Garrison?"

Easier said than done, the Jew thought. "Yeah. Let's go tell him."

 **~southpark~**

"I'm sorry boys, but there ain't nothing I can to do help."

"What?" They both asked in unison.

"I'm afraid this is permanent glue, like a permanent marker. But it's glue."

"Who the hell came up with that stupid idea?" Kyle sneered. "And why the hell are we using it at school?"

Mr. Garrison continued writing down grades on papers uninterestingly. "It's just what the school has provided."

"So our hands are just gonna be stuck together forever?" Stan asked, tilting his head. The words coming out of his mouth sounded so weird. But also nice somehow.

"No, just go get some adhesive remover."

"Some what?"

"Glue eraser boys, now please, I'm trying to grade your stupid tests."

"Shouldn't you be the one the provide that stuff?" Stan's eyes angered. He really hated the adults in this town.

When they received no answer, they sighed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Where do you even buy adhesive remover?" Kyle asked as they walked down the street after school. They weren't really able to hide the fact that they were holding hands and just decided to press close together in hopes to cover it. They had just turned in their kite the way it was, and still received an A whereas Cartman received a C+, much to Kyle's chagrin.

"I don't know," Stan shrugged. "Maybe my dad has some."

"God I hope so," Kyle closed his eyes. "We shouldn't have to pay for it ourselves. That's bullshit."

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Kyle opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his friend. "We look totally ridiculous!"

Kyle squinted his eyes at Stan. He looked kind of sad. And not just his usual sad. He had a gleam of hurt in his eyes. "Just saying. It could be worse," he answered, avoiding eye contact with the redhead.

Kyle looked forward at the ground and was silent for a moment. "I... guess it could be."

Stan turned his head away. Holding hands with Kyle had been giving him a warm and safe feeling. His usual achy sadness had left his mind, like Kyle's touch was the cure to his cynicism. Wendy's touch hadn't even made him feel that warm.

Stan washed Kyle's hand as an intended gesture of kindness and affection. It didn't turn out like he'd planned.

But, he wasn't about to admit that. Especially since the redhead was apparently so bothered by the situation.

"Hey, wait up you guys!" Kenny's voice called as he caught up to them, stopping to walk alongside Kyle. "There ya are. Was wondering where you two wentー why the hell are you holding hands?" He questioned, quirking one of his dark blue eyes in confusion.

"Sorry Kenny, we had to run out quick before Cartman saw us," Kyle explained, sighing as he told Kenny their situation. "Our hands got stuck together with glue."

"You serious?"

The other two boys nodded.

"Hah!" Kenny laughed, but at least he wouldn't go blabbing it to others. "Hey I should've tried that with Bebe. Can't ya just wash it off?"

"We tried that, it didn't work," the redhead responded, a helpless look on his face. "Just, keep quiet Kenny. We especially don't want Cartman to see."

"Well you better lock it up, he ain't far behind me," the blonde stated before blowing a bubble from his gum and gripping his backpack straps.

"Shit!" Kyle cursed as he picked up the pace, pulling Stan forcibly along the sidewalk.

"Geez dude, slow down!" Stan said as he held his winter hat down on his head to keep it from blowing off, his black hair blowing in the wind.

"No time for that, Stan, we gotta move!" Kyle was too focused on getting the hell out of there to pay attention to anything else.

"Okay, see ya guys tomorrow," Kenny deadpanned as he saluted his two friends off in the distance.

* * *

They eventually reached Stan's house where his dad, thankfully, did have some adhesive remover and they managed to get their hands free after a good while of scrubbing.

"Thanks dad," Stan said nonchalantly as he gave the kit back to his father.

"Yeah, I'm glad you actually had some of that stuff!" Kyle exclaimed, twirling his freed hand around, cracking his wrist.

"No problem boys, of course, I'm a geologist," Randy answered, causing his son to roll his eyes before he headed back into the garage to put it back.

"Thank God that's over," Kyle said as he stretched and put his arms back at his sides.

"Was it really that horrible?" Stan asked out of nowhere, causing Kyle to blink in confusion.

"I just didn't want Cartman to catch us like that, you know?" He explained. "You know how bad that would be."

"Uh-huh." Stan crossed his arms and drummed his fingers against his sleeve.

"Well, see you tomorrow Stan," Kyle said cheerily before heading out the door to go to his own house.

"Yeah, see you." The other replied, watching him leave, closing the door behind him quietly.

 **~southpark~**

The next morning at school, Cartman had been livid that he'd received a worse grade than Stan and Kyle. But, the redhead decided to keep his mouth shut about it as not to stoop to Cartman's level. He tried tuning out his obnoxious complaints, even if they were somewhat satisfying. Although his excuses irritated him.

"Mr. Garrison was prolly drunk when he graded! That's the only explanation!" The larger male went on and on about how it had to have been a mistake. That along with the dull lecture being delivered by said teacher rolled out in Kyle's mind. He stared blankly and dully ahead of him until he looked over at his best friend sitting at the desk near him, surprised to find him nervously fiddling with his pencil.

"You okay, Stan?" Kyle whispered.

"Yeah, m' good."

"You sure?" He pressed him, his brows furrowing in confusion. Stan wasn't one to give off an anxious aura, despite his disorders he had.

"Yeah," he said again.

"Okay then..."

Kyle wondered what could be wrong with his friend, he seemed fine yesterday. On their walk home, he noticed that something Kyle said had definitely bothered him. Stan was generally calmer than him anyways, but it seemed odder than usual that he hadn't been as disturbed or worried about their predicament than Kyle was.

He considered the possibility Stan enjoyed holding his hand. The black-haired male was a very anxious person and it would come as no surprise if he required gentle physical attention to calm him down.

But he wouldn't want to hold hands with Kyle would he?

He should want to hold hands with a girl.

Not Kyle.

Then again, Kyle was all he really cared about.

The redhead bit his lip. He didn't really mind holding Stan's hand, although he was now realizing his attitude yesterday suggested otherwise. What should he do? How could he make this up to Stan?

During lunch, the boys all had their hand at their pizza, today's lunch special, and Kyle sat next to his friend as he normally did. Stan took a swig of his Dr. Pepper, his normal lunch drink, and was relatively quiet during their lunch period.

Kyle knew what he was about to do was taking a risk, but he felt as though it needed to be done.

"Hey Stan?" He asked quietly. "Wanna hold my hand?"

Stan almost choked on his soda. "What?"

"Want to hold my hand?" Kyle repeated as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Under the table. No one will see."

"Uhh," was all Stan could say in response, completely dumbfounded. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because you liked holding my hand, right?" Kyle asked, and was rewarded with a scoff from the other.

"I did not."

"You did so."

"No way, dude."

"I think you did."

"Even if I did. Aren't you worried about _Cartman_?" Stan asked, his words slightly delivering as a hiss off his tongue. He honestly hated that Cartman controlled Kyle's life, either directly or indirectly. Why couldn't he just chill? It was always Cartman this, Cartman that. Everything was just Cartman, Cartman, _Cartman_. He couldn't standー

"No, I'm not."

Stan furrowed his brows. "Really?"

"Really. Just hold my hand, dude." Kyle's eyes softened opened his palm under the table, allowing Stan to access it easily. Stan's own hand sat in his lap, slightly twitching, as if he were trying to move it but something was still stopping him. Kyle rolled his eyes and reached over, gently taking his best friend's hand in his own.

Stan's eyes widened and a visible blush formed on his cheeks. The redhead found himself unconsciously rubbing the back of his friend's hand soothingly with his thumb. Swallowing nervously, Stan used his free hand to continue eating his lunch, obviously trying to keep his calm demeanor, earning a giggle from Kyle.

The Jew was as amused as he was flattered. He'd never seen this side of Stan before, but he liked it. He looked forward to a future of teasing his best friend and making him blush like that.

Stan squeezed Kyle's hand slightly harder, showing that he was pleased with just this small gesture of affection. Kyle had been right, it's what he's always needed.

Kyle would be happy to provide.

And who knows, maybe someday they'd do more than just hold hands.

* * *

 **well if you've read my other south park stories now you know where kyle's teasing comes from**

 **reviews are love ewe**


End file.
